Data-dreams
by aldeanna
Summary: Lieutenant Commander Data entreats a young science officer aboard the USS Enterprise to teach him how to be more human. After so many failed attempts, Data is anxious to make his lifelong goal a reality and she may be the only one who can help him.
1. A Request

"Can you teach me how to be human?"

I started at the question. Was he speaking to me?

My eyes flickered to the screen of my science station briefly, before turning my eyes back to the pale-faced android beside me.

"Who me?" I asked, finally deciding to acknowledge.

"I am unaware of anyone else being asked, commander," he quipped. "Unless you thought I was making the inquiry to the computer data banks, which would be absurd, given the computer has taught me everything about humans but nothing about their mannerisms."

"You'd be surprised," I murmured, pretending to search for some obscure piece of information the Captain had requested a week ago.

Short pause.

"Are you still reviewing those updates to Ferengi artillery the Captain asked for a week ago?"

He said it so loud that I could feel the Captain's gaze burning into my neck.

"I've been busy helping Dr. Crusher with research on the Trevellian Death Syndrome," I said equally as loudly, but trying not to meet the Captain's look. "I'm just getting to the backlog now."

"Backlog?" He blinked at me. "Well why did you not tell me? Let me assist."

He shoved me out of my station and began furiously typing.

"There, all done," he cried triumphantly after a matter of minutes. "I've cleared out the backlog and sent a summary to the Captain's personal PADD for review. Now, when are you off duty, commander?"

In the few years I've been posted to the USS Enterprise, I've learned Lieutenant Commander Data can be a most persistent pain in the you-know-what when he wants something. It's no wonder the Enterprise goes through science officers like tissues - _he_ eventually drives them all insane.

"At sixteen hundred hours," I sighed.

"Perfect!" he said with that dumb childish grin on his face. "I'll see you in the lounge."


	2. A Joke

Signing up for Starfleet was the best thing I ever did. There was no life for me left back on Earth.

The air and water were getting more toxic every day. The living quarters were getting smaller and more expensive even though millions of skyscrapers would go up every week. More than that, I was the only kid at my school who managed to escape the slums of San Francisco.

I was smarter than was good for me. My parents never went to school - what with computers and robots and intelligent devices, who honestly needed an education anymore? They ran a chain of biofuel plants, contracting power out to the mega factories and office buildings in the city. They expected me to take over when I was done doing my post-doctorate in bioengineering. Boy did I let them down.

At Starfleet, they really pushed my brains to the limits, but fortunately, I managed to impress a few of my professors with my knowledge of genetics. I picked up xenobiology, astrophysics and strategic command skills to round out my training as a science officer in the simulation classes and tutorials. More than a few Vulcans got the better of me, but I learned fast and graduated with flying colours.

Finally, I received my first post as an ensign on the USS Wellington. I quickly moved up the ranks, making friends with the Chief Medical Officer. It took everything I had to convince the Captain I was science officer material, not just someone who could bandage wounds and attend to the greenhouse onboard.

When the time came for my promotion, the Captain was sorry to tell me he couldn't offer me the position I wanted. Instead, he told me his colleague, a Captain Jean-Luc Picard, was looking for a first rate science officer and he would be pleased to offer me the position on the Wellington's recommendation.

I was ecstatic. I could hardly wait to start.

 **0101010**

"A man walks into a bar and yells, 'All lawyers are jerks.' Another man at the end of the bar says, 'I object to that remark'. First man asks, 'Why, are you a lawyer?' The other man says, 'No I'm a jerk'."

I groaned loudly. Worst joke ever.

"Data, you have to stop getting your jokes from the computer database," I scolded. "They're centuries out of date."

"No, I heard that one from someone on the lower decks," explained Data, his pale features exhibiting a baffled look. "His friend seemed to think the joke was funny, though upon reflection I believe both were dangerously inebriated at the time..."

"Maybe humour isn't the best place to start," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Maybe we need to start with something simpler...like body language."

"Excellent idea, commander," exclaimed Data, his gold eyes alight. "I have been practising my laughter. Would you like to hear it?"

I waved at him hurriedly, signalling I did not.

"No, I think we should start with something a little less, er, taxing," I said quickly. "Let's maybe try empathy."

"Empathy?"

The android face blanked for a second, as if trying to pull all the information he had stored on that single word.

"Ah yes," he said, putting up his finger. "The human ability to understand and share the feelings of others. This feature has been programmed into me already, commander. No need to waste your time on this."

"Okay, but let's try testing to see if it works," I pressed gently.

"I assure you it is fully functional," he interrupted.

"Fine," I said. "My father just passed away. How would you console me?"

"Strange. Your father was the picture of health last time we visited Earth. In fact, I estimate he still has 43 years, 8 months, 17 days and..."

"It's a hypothetical situation, Data."

"Oh."

Long pause.

I sighed and started to stand up to go, when I suddenly felt his hand on mine. I looked up and Data was looking at me with something like compassion in his golden eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said in a gentle voice. "Please, if there is anything I can do, I'm here for you."

Another pause.

When I didn't respond immediately, a look of concern crossed his face.

"Was that good, commander?"

"Yes, very good," I managed to reply. "Your empathy drive seems functional."

Data nodded and then leaned back in his chair.

"I suppose I should be glad about that," he seemed to say to himself. "But having a functional empathy drive does not bring me any closer to being human."

I smiled.

"No, but it's a good start," I told him. "C'mon, let's try a few more of your jokes..."

*Commander Data, report to the bridge* the intercom blared.

"Maybe next time, commander," Data said, rising. "Tomorrow at sixteen hundred hours?"


	3. An Understanding

With so much death and destruction happening on Earth, I was always fascinated by life. How it survives, evolves and transforms when all the odds are against it. Even in San Francisco where everything is paved over again and again, the dandelion weeds still peek through the cracks.

I have been to some of the harshest worlds in the galaxy, frozen wastelands and scorching deserts. Even there, life growing in all the places you would never expect - underground, overground, in volcanos, blizzards and sulphurous atmospheres. Life is a stubborn fact of the universe, not to be ignored and never to be extinguished.

Take me for example. I was a scrawny scrap of a kid when I was on Earth. By rights, I should never have survived, given how much I was bullied at school and exposed to all the toxic smog in Earth's atmosphere. Half the time, no one could tell if I was a boy or a girl because I was always covered with mud and bruises.

If my junior class teachers could see me now, in uniform, with my dark hair combed free of tangles and my face clean as a whistle with lipstick and the works, they would fall flat on their faces in disbelief. Not that I ever cared much for lipstick, but Starfleet does have personal grooming standards.

Speaking of standards, the first time meeting Lieutenant Commander Data was an eye-opener. I've seen all sorts of crazy stuff on other worlds, but I've never met a robot as sophisticated as Data. Sorry, I meant android, of course. A very advanced one and I believe one-of-a-kind in the whole galaxy, if what the computer database says is true about his creator, the mad scientist Noonian Soong.

He is a completely new form of life in the galaxy, artificially created yet sentient and self-aware in every way. Possessed of superhuman strength and computational powers, his appearance was so human and life-like as to be personable to those who would work with him. His sense of loyalty and quick, level-headed judgment on many a mission had already earned respect of the entire crew by the time I was brought aboard the Enterprise.

The scientist in me was originally fascinated by Data on first meeting. My curiosity soon died after I found him to be a tiresome and relentless task master. He was always correcting my reports and throwing off my hypotheses with alternative ones. He said constructive criticism was the best way for me to minimize my errors. On my worst days, I would simply refuse to speak to him.

I think he caught on that his "helpful" criticisms were rubbing me the wrong way. The first time he drove me to the silent treatment, I found my favourite book bound in leather and paper from old Earth in my quarters. The second time, it was a plate of strawberries waiting for me in the lounge. Similar small gifts followed with each cold shoulder I directed his way.

It was his way of apologizing. Smart android.

Finally, one day when he was being particularly nit-picky with reports I was trying to submit under deadline, I confronted him. I told him that I was trying to do my best, that even a Vulcan would not be this harsh, and that if he thought I wasn't Starfleet science officer material, he should have the decency to just tell the Captain so.

That startled him.

"Commander Freya, I apologize if I offended your intelligence," he said. "I did not mean to upset you."

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"Let me just say, it has been refreshing these past few months to work with someone who truly understands the scientific demands of our missions. You have made fewer errors than our previous science officers, so it seemed a trifle to me to point out the ones that do occur. I hope you can forgive me for doing so."

That startled me.

"Oh," I said quietly. "I didn't realize..."

"And I hope you take me in earnest when I say," he continued. "I have no intention of telling the Captain you are not an adequate science officer. In fact, I mean to tell him quite the opposite."

"Oh that's not necessary," I protested. "Can you...could you...help me finish my report?"

"With pleasure, commander," was the quiet reply.


	4. A Lesson

"Let's try anger," I said.

"Anger?" Data looked at me quizzically.

Clearly, Data was not ready for my training session on "emotions". I knew he had an emotion program installed, but he had re-programmed it to be overrided by other programs where possible.

"Sure, anger can be useful sometimes," I said. "As long as you keep it under control. People like Captain Picard only use anger to express a sense of injustice or to show we mean business when we're backed into a corner."

"That appears to be a contradiction, commander," Data mused. "In all my understandings of anger, control is never exercised."

"I believe you are intelligent enough to exercise the necessary control, Data," I told him. "You are an android, after all."

"Quite right, commander. What shall I angry about?"

I thought for a minute.

"Let's say Captain Picard did not allow you shore leave on our last trip to Aldea. You were to stay on the bridge, even though you could have used a much-deserved break. How would you react?"

"But I don't require shore lea-"

"It's just an example, Data," I soothed him. "This is important. You need to be able to sympathize with your fellow officers who are put in the same situation."

"Very well."

Data scrunched up his pale face and narrowed his eyes, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms as he did so.

"Can you believe it?" he snapped. "Captain Picard assigned me bridge duty while the rest of the ship gets shore leave. As if an android does not need his circuits re-wired once in a while! What a two-timing fossil!"

My jaw dropped. Data relaxed his face and sat up smiling.

"Was that adequate?"

"I would go easy on the insults about the Captain, Data," I said. "Wouldn't want that sort of thing to get back to the Captain's ears."

A confused glance.

"But I thought you wanted me to relate to my fellow officers," Data said. "And I've heard a great deal of worse comments..."

"Okay, fine," I said, cutting him off. "That demonstration was good for our purposes. Now give me a moment to think of another emotion I can teach you."

"May I suggest one?"

"Be my guest."

"What about love?"

I looked at him in surprise. He didn't flinch, just looked at me with those grey eyes burning with curiosity.

"Oh Data, I don't know," I said uncertainly. "That's a pretty complicated one."

"It is an essential one to humanity," pressed Data. "All humans are born with an understanding of it. I understand parental love because my father wove that notion subconsciously into my programming. I understand physical love because my father installed a sexual drive. But love itself - the kind described in old Earth texts and the emotion which other cultures have attributed a multitude of words to describe its various forms - this I do not understand."

At this, Data's face became lost in thought and confusion as he pondered his lack of understanding. I instinctively moved closer to him.

"There's no one way to understand love," I began slowly. "For some humans, it takes a lifetime to understand it and some humans never understand it at all. So you're not alone in thinking you don't understand the concept."

"It is strange, that is all," mused Data, staring intently at the floor. "I understand the abstract concepts of space and time, of mathematics and computation. But love eludes me."

"Well, I'll try my best to explain," I conceded.

He looked up at me expectantly. I avoided his gaze, but I rested my hand lightly on his.

"I think love is when two people care about each other deeply," I explained carefully. "It's a very intimate, tender and warm feeling of affection that goes beyond everyday loyalties and friendships. Love, that is the best kind of love, is developed over time, as you get to know the person better, and then suddenly you discover you can't imagine your life without that person. They suddenly become the most important thing in your life."

I paused, trying to see if I had missed anything.

"Does that make sense?" I asked at last, looking up at Data.

*Commander Freya, report to the bridge for duty* blared the intercom.

"For now, commander," came the reply.


	5. A Dream

I stared blankly at my science station. My thoughts seemed miles away from the report on the Omicron Delta system in front of me.

I need to stop working these long hour shifts, I thought to myself. It's affecting my ability to function properly. Perhaps I should go lie down.

I rose from my station and stopped dead in my tracks.

The bridge was empty.

Strange, I thought, did everyone go on break and leave me in charge? I don't remember the Captain giving orders, but then again, I've been daydreaming this whole time.

I blushed over what, or rather whom, I had been daydreaming. Snap out of it, Freya, this is serious.

I went over to the helm to check the readings and my heart nearly stopped. All the screens seemed to be frozen. I desperately tried to refresh and override the frozen screens, but nothing worked.

I hit the intercom.

*Captain Picard to the bridge immediately* I paged. *We have an emergency situation. Engineering, please report*

After a few seconds of silence, I paged the same message again. No response.

I rushed over to Data's station to see if I could override the systems with his console.

"It's no use," came a voice.

I whirled around to see a strange dark-haired man in full captain's uniform sitting in Captain Picard's chair. He was mimicking my frantic typing on the Captain's communications pad, giving the taps a sort of tune.

"Where's the Captain?" I demanded. "What have you done with the crew?"

"Be thou not afraid," he said, raising his hand in a mocking sort of greeting. "I haven't 'done' anything to your precious captain or crew. This is merely an introduction."

"Excuse me?" I burst out angrily.

"Temper, temper, my dear," he clucked. "Shall we start over?"

I studied the man's face. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, still youthful in appearance, but with heavy bags under his eyes. He had a strange way of arching his eyebrows as he spoke, as if he did not know what to do with them. His wide black eyes were striking, piercing, judging. I eyed him warily.

"What do you want with me?"

The man laughed.

"It's not what I want with you per se," he chuckled. "It's what the Q want with you. You have managed to capture their attention, Bryndis Freya, and that is not something to be taken lightly."

"The Q?"

"I haven't the time nor the courtesy to go into an explanation of how advanced and vastly superior our race is, but suffice it for you to know, we will be watching you carefully."

"Why?"

"Because you are about to become an anomaly in the universe of time and space and thought and ideas," he conjectured. "You threaten to overthrow all the rules set up by our ancestors and spit roundly in their faces. And you will do all this without realizing the consequences."

I stared at the man in disbelief. His face was grim with condemnation.

"How absurd!" I sputtered.

"Ah, but it is true nonetheless," the man continued, shaking his head. "And to think, you could have been a nobody. You could have just kept living your petty little life and all would be well with the galaxy. But no, you had to bully your way onto the USS Enterprise and be the second-rate science officer you are. I must say, I am disappointed."

"Will you speak sense, man?" I insisted impatiently.

The man cocked his head and eyed me intently for a few seconds.

"Yes, I believe I will, for the sake of your insignificantly tiny human brain," he said after a lengthy pause. "Tell me commander, what is the life of a machine worth to you?"

"I don't understand..."

"Don't you?" the man asked, before nodding to a direction behind my head.

I following his gaze to the viewscreen, where a giant comet suddenly appeared. It started hurtling at an impossible speed towards the ship. The alert systems on the bridge started going off on cue. I flew to Geordi's console to see if the operations controls were functional again.

Suddenly, a pale figure rose up on my viewscreen, wearing a golden Starfleet uniform and bathed in a shimmering aura. The figure turned and smiled at me. My audible gasp elicited a chuckle from the vile man behind me.

"Data, no!" I screamed.

Data ignored my terror-stricken face and turned to face the comet, floating into the void of space to do so.

I began pounding on the viewscreen, screaming at him to get out of the way, hoping he would hear me. I could hear that strange man's words echoing in my head, but none of them made sense as I continued to hammer away while the comet sped closer and closer to the floating form of Data. There was a bright flash of light, then darkness.


	6. An Emotion

I woke up sweating profusely. I could still hear the echo from my dream, but now it materialized into audible words.

"Commander, are you awake?"

It was my cabin intercom. Someone was at the door.

"Yes, come in," I called, flinging off the blankets and throwing a robe over my grey Starfleet-issue sleepwear. The cabin was cold due to my habit of lowering the temperature before going to sleep. In the dark void of space, where there is no night and day, any trick is useful in putting the body to sleep.

To my surprise, Lieutenant Commander Data entered my room in a state of agitation.

"What's the matter?" I asked immediately, fearing an emergency. "Should I get into uniform?"

"Nothing, commander," he replied. "Well not nothing, otherwise I would not have bothered you. Would you prefer I come back later when you are not indisposed?"

He was all over the map. Unusual for an android. I reached for my carefully pressed blue uniform hanging in the closet.

"Data, if something is wrong, please tell me," I scolded, looking at him sideways. "Do we have further news out of the Omicron Delta system? Are the Ferengi on the move in our quadrant?"

"No, there is no need to get into uniform, Bryndis," said Data. "I came here of my own accord to ask you something. Perhaps I should have chosen a better time. I did not realize you were resting..."

"Oh, just go ahead already! I'm clearly awake now," I said, trying not to sound too surly. The dream was still flitting on the edges of my mind.

"Quite so."

Hesitation.

"How do you quantify love?"

"Quantify what?"

Data checked himself and began again.

"That is, how does one know if one is in love?"

"You woke me up for this?"

"All due respect, Bryndis, you were already awake," volunteered Data.

"Not helping."

Data lowered himself into a chair, as if in defeat.

"Commander Freya, I am sorry to have bothered you," he said with a tinge of regret in his voice. "My dream programming has been sending confusing signals lately and the exact timing of the new dreams coincides with the commencement of our daily lessons. It has upset my programming as I do not know how to comprehend such dreams."

"What sort of dreams?" I asked, my ears pricking up.

"I am embarrassed to say," said Data sheepishly. "There is usually a woman, the same woman, in each one. I am holding her in my arms and feeling an immense feeling of happiness, unlike anything I have ever experienced before. I never see her face, but I know who she is."

"Who is it?"

*All hands on deck* announced the intercom. *All bridge officers report for duty*

Data hurried out of the room without answering. I groaned and donned my blue uniform.

 **010101**

"We've received some distress calls from the Beta Omicron Delta III planet in the Omicron Delta system," announced Captain Picard to the crew on the bridge.

"The Amusement Park Planet, sir?" asked Geordi.

"That's exactly the one. There are reports of tourists going missing again. We've had no formal communications with the planet's supercomputer for weeks. Commander, Freya, do you have any new information about the planet since the last Starfleet visit on star date 5591?"

"Nothing I can make out, sir. I have conflicting reports that tourists have either been dying or going missing on the planet, but no one can pinpoint the cause. The latest reports from Starfleet computer specialists on the ground show the supercomputer known as the Keeper, who controls all the illusions on the planet, appears to be in working order, but the specialists went missing before they could complete their assessment. In other informal news reports, tourists are saying there is a definite mismatch between their thoughts and the illusions rendered, perhaps suggesting a glitch or manipulation of the planet's amusement park machinery."

"Interesting hypothesis, commander. I think it's best you join us on the away team to investigate. Commanders Yar, La Forge and Data, you will be joining as well."

"Yes sir," they echoed in unison.


	7. A Rival

The away team ended up having eight personnel. In addition to myself, Captain Picard, Data, Yar, and La Forge, there were two security officers – a human named Cole and a green-skinned Orion named Rydia – as well as one of the ship's medical officers, a Vulcan named Sorrd.

We beamed down to the area where most of the tourists had gone missing. Our scanners had picked up a few anomalies in the area so we figured it would be a prime place to investigate, though with a due sense of caution.

The planet was just as lovely as the onboard library had described it. There were lush meadows and tall weeping willows and lovely ponds with water lilies blossoming on the still waters. The sky was a deep azure with luscious white clouds suspended there, while a gentle breeze wafted the scent of grass and earth. It was unlike anything I had ever seen.

"Be on your guard," ordered Captain Picard sternly. "The machinery of this planet is such that it can detect your thoughts and turn them into reality. Normally such illusions will not harm you, but the reports we've received would lead us to believe otherwise. So keep your thoughts focused and clear, avoid thinking of anything dangerous and report to me if you find anything strange."

Then the Captain proceeded to divide us into pairs. Geordi went with Tasha and the Orion was paired with Sorrd. Picard ordered Data to stay with him, while I was left with Cole. I was disappointed because I wanted an opportunity to ask Data what he had been so worked up about earlier, but perhaps that would have been an unnecessary distraction given we were all supposed to be on full alert.

So I held my tongue and smiled at the dashing young blonde-haired, blue-eyed officer who had been assigned to protect me. I knew little about Cole worth sharing. Rumours back at the Academy say he was a born fighter pilot, but had spent most of his missions training cadets, piloting cargo shuttles and engaging in more hand-to-hand combat than he cared for. Still, he was Starfleet material and I respected him for having an eye to seeing trouble before it happened.

We set out eastward, where there was a large forest complete with crimson-coloured leaves and towering redwood trees among the flora and fauna. This seemed like a logical place for tourists to get lost and disappear. Our pairs fanned out and were soon lost in the underbrush.

I had my scanner out to monitor for readings of any life forms or unusual activity. Cole kept his hand lightly on the handle of his phaser, but he was whistling softly to break the silence in the air.

"This all seems like a fairy tale," Cole said at last.

"How do you mean?" I asked, frowning as I strained over my scanner.

"I mean, all these colourful trees and strange plants," he explained. "It's like a page out of those ancient Earth tales about castles and enchanted forests and talking beasts."

"What an absurd idea," I muttered, half to myself.

"Sorry?"

"I said I can't detect anything unusual here," I covered, straightening up. "Let's try that clearing over there to see if I get any readings."

We strolled over to the clearing where the sunlight poked through the trees. I glanced at my scanner. Readings were normal, but I thought I saw a small blip in the radar towards the peripheral of my screen.

"My grandmother would love this place," Cole said, breaking my train of thought. "Feels like home. If we were back at the colony, she would sit us down outside her cottage and serve pies all day."

"What a strange thing to say," I murmured, shaking my scanner to see if it had glitched.

"Bryndis. do you think the Captain will give us shore leave if we figure out what's wrong down here?" he asked, plucking at the bark of a redwood tree.

"I don't know."

"I think it would be nice," he continued, clearly not seeing my frustration with the scanner. "I think we could use a break. We're not all androids like Data."

My head snapped up at the last word. Seeing he finally had my attention, he flashed a winning smile.

"Say," he said, drawing closer to me and resting his hand on my arm. "What do you say we take our next shore leave together, Bryndis? I bet we could have an awful lot of fun with our combined imaginations in a place like this."

I was speechless. Was Cole hitting on me? On an active mission?

"Of course, we need to find out what's going on here first," he said hurriedly, seeing my surprised look. "I'm just trying to keep myself motivated with happy thoughts, as the Captain ordered."

He hesitated, then added, "Thoughts about you do make me happy, Bryndis. I just want you to know that."

Then he broke away and started singing an old song. All I caught was something about a huntsman before I noticed a large blip materializing on my screen.

"This way," I waved to Cole and plunged back into the brush.


	8. A Mistake

We converged on the blip only to find a small logwood cabin with an adjoining garden and smokehouse next to it.

We heard a rustle in the bushes nearby. Cole readied his phaser, but lowered it as soon as he saw his Chief of Security and Geordi emerge. Apparently, they had picked up the cabin too.

Commander Yar did a quick perimeter search, then rejoined us.

"Something's not right," she said, her phaser out in her hand. "I'm not reading any life forms, but the scanners picked up something here. Lieutenant Stirling, you're coming with me through the front. La Forge and Freya, you come through the back on my signal."

We scattered. Geordi and I crept around to the back, while Tasha and Cole readied themselves at the front door. Peering into the rear windows, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. There was a simple kitchen with a table and a wash basin, but no sign of life. I signalled quietly to Geordi when I found the backdoor and then we waited.

Suddenly, there was a great crash as Tasha broke down the door then a shriek of dismay followed by excited murmurs. Geordi and I took that as our cue to phaser our way into the cottage as the voices grew louder.

We burst on the scene only to find ourselves confronted with a little old lady who was weeping and cowering before the tall, but menacing form of Tasha Yar.

"Please don't hurt me," the old woman blubbered. "I'm unarmed!"

Commander Yar looked over at us helplessly before attempting to smooth over the situation.

"What are you still doing here, ma'am?" she asked gently. "This area has been evacuated. There's been some dangerous incidents."

"I was only waiting for my granddaughter to come visit me," sobbed the little old lady, still cringing and hiding her face from Tasha. "She's all alone in the woods!"

It was clear the old woman was badly shaken. She was still clad in her nightdress, a faded purple thing with bits of old lace. She wore a ragged nightcap over her long grey curls. I felt quite sorry for her in that moment.

"What is your granddaughter's name?" Yar asked, trying to put a consoling hand on the woman's shoulder. "Maybe we can help find her and get you both out of here."

The grandmother flinched away, giving a small cry and rushing to a secluded corner of the room, as if Tasha's touch had burned her.

"Hood," the old woman snivelled into her dress. "Little Red Riding Hood."

Strange name, I thought, where have I heard that before?

Tasha hit her communicator badge.

*Captain, this is Commander Yar reporting. We found a tourist still trapped in the forest. She's looking for her granddaughter, a Little Red Riding Hood. Please notify us if you find her.*

"Hang on, commander."

Everyone turned to look at Cole. He was white as a sheet.

"I think I may have made a mistake," he whispered, lips quivering.

"What is it, Stirling?"

"I was thinking about fairy tales," Cole continued, trying to steady his voice, but he was cut off by a new sound.

"Aren't you going to ask me what big eyes I have," came a deep, guttural voice from the corner of the room.

Our heads snapped over to the form of the little old lady. I gasped audibly, for now we saw two large yellow eyes with black slits watching us from underneath the nightcap.

All of us started backing away slowly, as the seemingly small figure in the corner uncoiled itself, the shadow growing larger and larger against the wall.

"Well," the voice roared again. "Aren't you going to ask me what a big nose I have?"

A snout emerged from beneath the nightgown with two large pointed ears protruding from the sides of what had been the old lady's head. The shape quivered and expanded, almost filling the room.

"Get out now!" ordered Tasha.

We ran out of the cabin, just as we heard the terrible voice shouting after us, "Aren't you going to ask me what big teeth I have?"

The cabin shuddered and the beast burst through the front wall, causing the rest of the structure to collapse. Out of the rubble, the giant wolf emerged, standing on its hind legs, branding sets of razor-sharp claws and showcasing fine rows of long, serrated teeth.

Tasha and Cole began firing on it with their phasers, but they passed right through the beast.

"That won't work," I shouted. "It's an illusion."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Tasha yelled back.

"I'm working on it," I said, as we all starting running as the beast closed in on us.

Think, Freya, think. How does the fairy tale end?

"It's gaining on us," Geordi shouted, looking frantically over his shoulder. "We need to get up into the trees."

Cole hoisted me up onto a low-hanging branch, while Tasha boosted Geordi into a nearby tree. We clambered up those trees like cats, not daring to look down. We stopped only when we thought we were high enough.

The beast snarled and trying to clamber up the trees after us, but its weight appeared to be its own demise as it kept snapping any of the branches it tried to climb.

Suddenly, the idea hit me.

"Everyone think of the huntsman!" I cried. "The huntsman is the only one who can kill the wolf."

"Right, I remember now!" said Cole. "The huntsman comes to kill the beast."

No sooner had Cole finished speaking, when a man clad all in green and swinging a large woodaxe appeared to stroll onto the scene out of nowhere. He took one look at us and then at the wolf and smiled.

"Fear not, my fair ladies and lasses," he called to us. "I will save thee."

The beast took one look at the huntsman and pounced. It was a bitter struggle. At first, the huntsman appeared to keep the wolf at bay with swift strokes of his axe. But as the fight wore on, the huntsman began to tire and show weakness.

One mishap swing finally caught his axe in the wood of a tree trunk. It was all over in a second. The beast tore the huntsman to pieces. We stared in utter shock and disgust.

"Well, there goes that plan," Geordi murmured.

I looked away and tried to erase the image of the defeated huntsman from my mind. What went wrong here? Why was the fairy tale going off script? How were we to defeat an illusion such as this?

Then it came to me. I concentrated all my thought on the idea and traced every detail of the thing I wanted in my mind. I even closed my eyes to focus my mind's eye on the object.

"Bryndis, what are you doing?" I heard Cole gasp.

"Fighting fire with fire," I replied.

I opened my eyes and in my hand, I held a flaming torch exactly as I had pictured it.

"Hey wolfie," I yelled at the beast, still feasting on the deceased huntsman.

The beast perked up and growled fiercely at me. I tore off a branch and threw it at wolf. It growled again and began stalking towards my tree. I could see it readying a massive pounce with its monster hind legs. I smiled and waited.

The blow from my torch caught the beast in mid-air as it pounced. I wanted it to be close enough so there was no chance of missing. To my delight, I saw the torch fire catch on the beast and light its fur ablaze. The wolf howled in pain and fell back on the earth, swatting at itself. The flame spread until the whole beast was an orange ball of fire and then it started running, shrieking and howling its way through the forest – safely away from us.


	9. A Trap

Captain Picard emerged on the other side of the forest, trailed closely by Commander Data furiously scanning away. Up ahead, he saw the outline of a small picturesque village with white-walled buildings and copper rooftops gleaming in the sunlight and nestled between green, rolling hills. A narrow dirt path led downwards towards the village gates with some sheep grazing in the open fields nearby, but no sign of their caretakers.

There was a rustle from the forest to his left and Picard turned to see Sorrd and Rydia coming out of the woods alongside them. The green-skinned Orion officer appeared riddled with impatience and tedium, visibly twirling her phaser in her hand as if it were a baton. Sorrd seemed oblivious to Rydia's precarious fidgeting.

"My scanner indicates some anomalies in the direction of the village, Captain" announced Sorrd.

"Alright, let's check it out," responded Picard, waving the team forward.

"Strange, my readings do not show anything," said Data, frowning at his device.

"There is some interference from the planetary's illusion-generating machinery," explained Sorrd. "I have re-programmed my device to filter out the noise."

"So have I," quipped Data, but Picard cut him off before he could say more.

"We will investigate nonetheless," he ordered. "We must at the very least ensure all tourists have evacuated safely."

They wound their way down to the village, the main street paved with cobblestones and lined with black antique gas lamps.

"It's like a fairy tale," remarked Rydia, her fingers reaching out to touch the white-washed walls of the shops and houses along the street.

"Yes, it certainly reminds me of that," agreed Picard, peering through the windows and alleys they passed. "Like an artisan's village from Old Earth's history with painters, sculptors, woodcarvers and the like."

"I once read an old Earth story about how a wooden puppet turned into a human boy," mused Rydia. "This village looks exactly like the picture book."

"Pinocchio?" offered Picard. "That is a very old tale indeed."

They continued down the main street. Data and Sorrd's scanners detected no signs of life, but the readings were picking up a strange blip ahead of them. The village appeared to be completely deserted, though they checked every building and called out to anyone who might hear them. They finally came to the main village square.

"Captain, there's a woodworking shop here!" cried Rydia, rushing over to a small shop in one corner of the square. "Just like Gepetto's in the text I read."

The crew ran over to Rydia, who was holding up some small wooden puppets with their joints dancing and dangling on strings. Picard noticed the fine detail of the puppets' features, almost life-like. Though mostly human, some of the puppets appeared to be likenesses of Klingons, Vulcans, Bajorans, Orions and a few other races. The most unsettling thing was the artisan had etched expressions of horror and pain on most of the puppets' faces.

"Do you like them?"

The crew all whirled at the strange new high-pitched voice.

"I made them myself," continued the voice, clearly extremely pleased with itself.

Picard regarded the source of the voice with surprise. A small, old man was standing before them, bespectacled and hunched over with his wrinkled hands clasping one of the puppets by the strings.

"Yes, they're quite interesting," replied Picard, taking a few moment to recover. "May I ask why you're still here, sir? We've evacuated this area."

"Evacuated?" squeaked the old man. "But I still haven't finished my masterpiece! It will be a great work of art, sir. Would you care to see it?"

"Perhaps another time," smiled Picard. "In the meantime, you should return to the visitors' station until we have safely neutralized the threat here."

"Oh but you must see my puppet show!" protested the old man, fiddling with his puppet and spectacles. "It is simply wonderful. You would so enjoy it. Come now!"

The little man beckoned to them to follow him. Picard protested, but the man seemed not to hear him, but quickly disappeared into a large building at the other end of the square.

They chased after him, hoping to change his mind. Picard noted the large painted sign on the front of the large wooden building with big yellow letters: PUPPET THEATRE. An uneasy feeling welled up within him.

It was pitch black inside, save for a few stray rays of light from the skylights high above in the domed ceiling. Picard could make out rows upon rows of plush theatre seats and a stage at the front of the room. It was here the old man was busily assembling his show, setting up props and laying out all his wooden puppets.

"Sir, we must ask that you come with us now," called Picard. "It is vitally important we bring you to safety."

"Poppycock!" came the indignant reply.

Picard motioned to his crew members to join his slow advance on the stage. They closed in on either side of the stage, mounting the stairs as they did so.

"Sir, I'm only going to ask one last time," said Picard, carefully advancing towards the old man on the stage. "We need to get you out of here."

The old man dropped what he was doing and stared at Picard, his small hands resting defiantly on his hips.

"No, you're just in time for the show, Captain," he called, a mischievous grin creeping over his face. "It's going to be such a spectacle!"

Picard reached out to grab the old man, but there was a puff of smoke and all the theatre lights suddenly came on, blinding them all. When Picard's sight returned, the old man was gone but the theatre seats were filled with a clammering audience.

"Now dance my pretties!" echoed the old man's voice overhead.

Suddenly, Captain Picard's arm jerked up involuntarily, and glancing down he found his arms suddenly bound by ropes which rose up to the ceiling. A second later, his legs moved from side to side and there too ropes had appeared. Picard glanced over at his crew and saw them tangled in similar strings, unable to fight as the ropes pulled them in every direction. A brazen blare of trumpets followed by a whimsical flourish of piano keys suddenly arose from the orchestra pit and Picard found himself yanked along in time to the deafening music.

The crowd roared with glee and began throwing popcorn and jeers their way as they hopped along to the tune of the invisible puppet master.

"Everyone stop thinking about Pinocchio," shouted Picard over the noise.

"I think it's too late, sir," called Data in obvious distress. "The illusion is already in full swing. No pun intended."

"If you have a better suggestion, commander, I'd like to hear it," Picard retorted angrily.

"It's no use, Captain," came the puppet master's voice again overhead. "Your friends have fallen into my trap and so have you. There will be no more meddling in my affairs."

This isn't working, thought Picard. If only I could remember what happened in that old Earth fairy tale.

"Sir, the Blue Fairy saved Pinocchio in the old Earth text you mentioned," cried Rydia, as if reading his mind. "We should all try to think of her."

"Quite so!" snapped Picard. "Everyone do as Rydia says."

They all focused their thoughts on the Blue Fairy as much they could. One of the stage lights above them started to glimmer more softly before changing to a pale, pale blue. The light appeared to detach itself from the ceiling and descend slowly to where they were dancing away. It shimmered and took on the form of a miniature woman with a set of gossamer wings and gold-spun hair. She gazed at them with large blue eyes, her tiny wand shimmering in her little hand.

"Please," gasped Picard. "Set us free."

The Blue Fairy nodded and extended her wand.

"Nuh uh uh!" called the puppet master again.

The Blue Fairy shrieked and her wand dropped suddenly from her hand. Her face began to quiver and change until it was frozen solid and she dropped to the floor like a log. She lay there to Picard's horror, completely changed into one of the old man's puppets.

"Sir, what do we do now?" asked Sorrd, his stern Vulcan face betraying a small iota of concern.

Picard ignored the question and set the wheels of his mind turning. Clearly someone was manipulating the supercomputer's illusions for their own purposes. He feared his comrades on the other side of the forest were in grave danger, but he needed to free his crew here first - if he could indeed free them.

He couldn't seem to remember any other details from that blasted story. If only he could free himself from these invisible strings.

The idea hit him like a slap in the face. He had been so stupid. Illusion could only be fought with illusion. He concentrated on forming an object in his mind, filtering out the cacophony of music and noise from the rowdy audience.

The next second, the pair of scissors was in his hand with razor-sharp blades gleaming in the stage light. As the puppet master swayed him left and right, he pointed the scissors to a place above his right arm and waited for the impact. There was snapping sound and Captain Picard regained control of his right arm. Another swing from the puppet master and his left arm was free.

"Everyone think of knives, blades, scissors!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, as he tried to snip at the strings around his legs. "The ropes can be cut!"

The crew did as they were told and were soon free of the puppet master's strings.

There was a devastating cry from above them and the audience below disappeared. The theatre went dark and the next thing they knew, they were back at the edge of the forest, unharmed and in one piece.

"We're getting closer to the bottom of this," mused Picard aloud, as he regarded his dazed crew. "Someone isn't happy about all the tourists on this planet and trying to drive them away on purpose by manipulating the illusion machinery."

Picard hit his communicator badge to try to get in touch with the other teams.


	10. An Apple

Cole and I helped each other down from the redwood tree, following by Geordi and Tasha. We were none the worse for wear, except a bit shaken by the wolf incident. The huntsman's body had mysteriously disappeared.

I hit my communicator badge to report the incident, sending the details over to Data's scanner for the Captain's review. In turn, Data summarized what had happened to them only minutes later.

*Are you alright?* Picard's voice crackled through to us.

*Yes Captain, we're fine* I replied. *We'll keep searching the area for more clues. We'll report if back if there's anything amiss. Freya out*

Tasha thought it was best to split them up again, so the manipulator couldn't surprise and trap all four of us at once. Based on the Captain's report, the puppet master could only concentrate on one group at a time, giving the impression this was a one-man operation.

Cole and I set out in the direction the injured wolf had taken, hoping to unmask the manipulator at the end of the trail. I activated my phaser just in case anything happened.

We walked along quietly for about an hour, my scanner making the occasional beep to indicate whether an area was clear or not. The sun was rising steadily in the sky, so the forest air was becoming hot and humid. When we found a stream, we rested to take a drink and assess our situation.

"I'm starving," I sighed.

"We'll be back on the ship before you know it," Cole tried to comfort me. "Then you can have whatever you like."

"You know what I could really go for?"

Before Cole could answer, my scanner screeched and I saw immediately a life form reading show up on the screen.

We both jumped up on full alert and began following the radar to the site. We arrived at the edge of the forest, where a lonely tourist concession stand stood with a small wooden sign that read "Fresh Apples" in big red letters.

"What are apples?" Cole asked.

"An Earth fruit," I replied. "Must be popular here with the human tourists."

As we approached, we saw a young woman tending to the stand, setting out her wares in a tidy fashion on her storefront: red, green and yellow apples of every colour, size and texture. She had long dark hair and wore a kerchief to pull it back from her lovely, red-lipped face. She wore a simple blue dress with gingham-checks and a spotless white apron over top. The fashion was centuries outdated, but I suppose tourists love authenticity.

"Good day, ma'am," I called out. "I'm wondering if you could assist us."

The woman looked up and smiled at us, her white teeth brilliant in the sunlight.

"Certainly, officers," she replied. "What can I do?"

"We're looking for a little old man or woman," I explained. "And while we're at it, we should tell you this area has been evacuated by Starfleet."

The woman looked alarmed and glanced around warily.

"Oh dear," she said. "No I have not seen anyone come this way. Thank you for warning me, but what _ever_ shall I do with all these apples? I can't just leave them here!"

"They're safe with us, ma'am," Cole volunteered. "We will make sure no one steals anything until we clear the area."

"Oh thank you," she said, clasping her hands together. "How _ever_ shall I repay you?"

Someone enjoys staying in character, I thought.

"An apple would be nice," I suggested, eyeing a particularly large red one near her elbow.

"Certainly," she offered graciously. Following my gaze, she picked up the apple of my eye and handed it to me.

"These are the best apples in all the land," she gushed. "We grew them all organically in my father's orchard."

"How quaint," said Cole smiling.

"Won't you have one too?" the young lady asked him, batting her eyelashes suggestively at him. "They're like nothing you've ever tried."

"I'll pass," replied Cole, putting up his hand. "I'm not a fan of apples. I prefer my synthesized meat proteins."

"Suit yourself," I shrugged and bit into the apple.

It was dizzyingly delicious. I bit into the apple's soft flesh again, savouring the sweet juices. Suddenly, I felt my heart begin to beat strangely and my sight blurred. I reached out to steady myself, felt Cole catching hold of me with a startled cry, and then darkness descended.


	11. A Kiss

Captain Picard joined the rest of the crew in the shade of the clearing. Lieutenant Stirling had been positively hysterical over the communicator. The crew's faces were gloomy as they stared at the scene before them.

The master manipulator had taken the fairy tale theme a tad too far. Lieutenant Commander Freya was lying on a stone bier in the forest surrounded by wild ivy and snow-white flowers wreathing her sleeping frame. Her face was pale, her lips colourless and her eyes shut fast, offering no signs of life. Sorrd could find no pulse on the fallen officer and had proceeded to declare Commander Freya dead.

There was no sign of the young woman and her apple stand, which had mysteriously disappeared after Stirling had rushed to Freya's side. Hearing the full account, Picard racked his brains to make sense of the story. Why was this so familiar?

Stirling was visibly distraught, sitting destitutely by the bier. Rydia had joined him and was trying to console him with her seductive charms.

"Captain, what now?" Commander Yar pressed gently.

"I'm not sure," Picard replied. "This all reminds me of another old Earth story about a young girl who was tricked into eating a poisoned apple and fell under a sleeping enchantment. If I recall correctly, the only cure was true love's kiss."

"Seriously?" Geordi choked.

Stirling perked up when he heard Picard's words, rising to his feet.

"True love's kiss?" he echoed. "Captain, will that truly save her?"

"I don't know," ventured Picard uncertainly. "It's only a story. Officer Sorrd here has already confirmed she has no pulse. Perhaps it's best we get her back to the ship to see if there's anything more to be done."

Stirling shook his head vigorously and glanced back at Freya's still frame.

"Captain," he said finally. "Permission to try the cure on Commander Freya."

There was a murmur from the crew. Anger flashed in Rydia's eyes.

"Cole, be sensible," she said, rising to put a hand on his shoulder. "If there's anyone who can bring her back, it's Dr. Crusher."

He brushed her hand away and continued to stare resolutely at the Captain. Picard sighed.

"As you wish," he consented.

Stirling turned and went to Freya's side. He looked at her for a brief moment and then planted a quick kiss on her bloodless lips. He waited.

No movement.

Stirling tried again, this time letting his lips linger for a second longer. He drew back, but those stubborn eyelids did not flutter. He threw his hands up in frustration and collapsed back down beside the bier, holding his head in his hands.

"Thank you for trying," said Captain Picard gently. "I believe we should best leave this to the medical experts and not to supernatural powers that be."

Picard hit his communicator.

*Enterprise, eight to beam up* he paged.

"Wait," came a voice.

*Hold* Picard ordered.

"What is it, Data?" said Picard, turning to the android who had spoken.

"Let me try."

"I beg your pardon?"

Stirling glared at Data.

"Captain, I cannot allow this," he hissed. "How can a machine be capable of 'helping' in this situation?"

"Hold your tongue, Lieutenant Stirling," ordered Captain Picard.

Turning to Data, he said, "Commander Data, this is very generous of you, but are you certain you are the right, er, person for the job?"

"Unequivocally," Data replied without flinching. "I have studied all the old Earth texts extensively and I am familiar with the thematic concept of 'true love'."

"What could an android possibly know about-" sputtered Cole, but Picard silenced him with a look.

"Very well," consented Picard. "There is no harm in it. But after this, we are transporting her back to sick bay."

"Understood, Captain," agreed Data.

Stirling fixed a death stare on Commander Data as he approached the bier, but eventually stood out of his way. Data took no notice, but seemed focused entirely on the sleeping form of Commander Freya.

Picard thought he saw a single tear rolling down the android's pale cheek as he bent over the young science officer. Data seemed to hesitate, lost in thought, contemplating every line and every crease on her lovely upturned face.

Picard thought he heard a whisper, saw Data's lips moving almost imperceptibly. Then the android leaned over and imparted a tender kiss on the pale woman's lips.

There was a resounding crack and the far-off sound of an anguished cry in the distance.

Lieutenant Commander Freya's eyes flickered open and she sat up abruptly, breathing hard. She looked around wildly, murmuring, "Where am I?"

Data put a calming hand on her shoulder and took her face in his hands.

"You're alright now, commander," he said soothingly. "You're right where we left you."

"I had such a strange dream," she cried, her face contorting with pain at the memory. "Such awful nightmares."

Data hushed her and held her weeping face to his chest.


	12. A Beginning

"Fools!" roared a voice out of the bushes.

Picard turned to see the little old man they had encountered earlier emerge from the bushes.

"Idiots, all of you!" the man shrieked again. "All my plans ruined!"

Picard arched his eyebrows in amusement and studied the small creature, the puppet master who had played with them all on the illusory stage.

"What plans would those be?" inquired Captain Picard.

"You disgusting humans have trashed this planet!" screamed the old man. "All these filthy tourists polluting and destroying this world. How can anyone enjoy such beauty when there is so much ugliness?"

"But it is all an illusion," noted Picard carefully. "Surely, the beauty is only cosmetic."

"You idiot of a human!" scoffed the man. "Those illusions are sapping the life force of this planet. How long before it runs out and all you're left with is a barren wasteland?"

Picard looked over at his crew quizzically.

"If I may, Captain," piped up Data, still holding Bryndis. "It appears the supercomputer requires a great deal of energy to make the illusions enjoyed by tourists possible and draws the power from the planet's core. My hypothesis is the planet's core is being strained as result and perhaps putting undue stress on the tectonic plates. This could potentially result in violent volcanic eruptions, earthquakes and geysers on the planet's surface."

Picard nodded and turned back to the man.

"How do we prevent this catastrophe?" he asked.

"It's too late," the man cried. "We are all doomed. I've tried to keep the tourists back, but they still keep coming!"

"What if Starfleet imposes an immediate moratorium on tourism to the planet?" speculated Picard, waving aside the man's mental meltdown.

The man looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Perhaps," he frowned. "But I fear the damage may already be done. My seismic readings are off the charts."

"We'll do our best to evacuate the planet and notify Starfleet," assured Captain Picard.

"Let's hope this works," the man grumbled.

"In the meantime, I am placing you under arrest for mischief and possible murder charges, sir," warned Picard sternly. "You appear to have harmed a number of innocent lives on purpose."

The old man looked taken aback by Picard's allegation, but he slowly nodded.

"Do as you wish," the man assented. "I did what I had to to protect the planet."

Picard waved Tasha and Rydia over to take custody of the man. He then hit his communicator badge to give orders to initiate evacuation of the planet.

 **010101**

"Come in," Captain Picard called.

He was sitting at his desk, writing up the paperwork for Starfleet with respect to Beta Omicron Delta III. Many provisions had to be made for transporting the tourists back to their home planets in a timely manner. It was unfortunate, but Starfleet experts believed the planet could be saved after all, if a one-year moratorium were imposed and tourist quotas imposed thereafter to avoid future overloads.

At his word, Lieutenant Commander Data entered the room. He stood at attention before Captain Picard and waiting for him to finish writing.

"What can I do for you, Commander Data?" asked Picard in a tired voice.

"Permission to request transfer to another vessel, sir."

Picard looked up at Data in surprise.

"Why the devil would I do that?" the Captain demanded.

"According to Starfleet guidelines, sir," the android quipped. "Fraternization among officers is discouraged. I would not want Commander Freya's career prospects to be jeopardized on my account."

Picard gave Data a long look, then burst out laughing.

"Is something funny, sir? I was not aware I had attempted humour."

Picard waved the suggestion aside.

"Data, you should give me some credit as your commanding officer," the Captain said. "I am neither blind nor heartless."

"Sir?"

"Data, I formally deny your request. I've never had a better operations officer than in you and I'm not about to let another ship have you."

"But sir-"

"No ifs, ands, or buts, Data," Picard snapped. "You're staying on my ship."

"Yes sir."

"You are dismissed."

Data turned to go.

"Oh and Data?"

"Yes sir?" Data replied, pausing in mid-stride.

"Ignorance is bliss where you and Commander Freya are concerned."

Data's face registered surprise, but he quickly nodded.

"Yes, Captain Picard."

 **010101**

 _Thank you for following this story. I had originally intended to end it here, but there is still more of it stuck in my head ready to be written down. If you would to see more of this storyline, please leave a review._


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